The First of Many Trials
by kissedbynight
Summary: It all started with one trial. The war is over, lives are slowly moving forward, trials and tribulations occur and destinies are changed. Years later, how will the world change-is it better or worse, can friends still be after all that has been changed? Are the trials of life finally over with? Eventually will be a reunion story.
1. Prologue

**Had this idea in my head for way too long-thought it would a good time to post something after x amount of years laying dormant.**

 **As we all know, I am a FanFiction writer, not the millionaire who owns these characters and rights-I am simply borrowing them for all but a moment.**

 **Enjoy.**

 **Prologue.**

The Causalities of war were immense; blood flooded the hallowed halls in which we have spent years sneaking about and rushing to and from class, cries from the survivors as they wept for their loved ones in places we once gathered to laugh and joke around. This place has been my home since I was eleven, now it seems to be the home of nightmares. The Spot you had your first kiss now burned black by dark magic and death. Books you have spend years pouring over-memorizing every text word for word, now nothing but ash and dust in the wind. Where there once was laughter in the wind-now is just the painful cries of lost souls. This place has lost its meaning. Where magic and life once dwelled there is nothing but the cold chill in the air that fallows death.

But for that one moment, when the lights glowed bright and there was nothing but dust-in that one moment everything felt right in the world. True, we may be fighting for our lives, but in that moment we were untouchable. We stood for life and what is good in the world and finally after years we were on top. In that moment the blood dried on our hands, the circles under our eyes-they were all worth something. The cheers of the Order rang loud, women were holding children close and crying with a toothy grin, men were rounding up the few remaining Death Eaters.

Everything was good till that moment passed and every one took a look around at what once was a safe place.

I couldn't breath-everywhere I turned I saw blood; was it my friends or did I send the curse that caused this: seeing the sheets covering the bodies I couldn't help but think if I knew them, were we friends, our was I the one that killed them? I know I shouldn't feel this way-it is war, there is going to be loss on both sides. In war no side ever wins or losses-just who survived the longest. I knew the war was going to take precious things from me, I knew it was going to cause every fiber in my being to cringe at the thought of taking a life. But that didn't stop me, and that is what makes me more revolted then anything; the thought that I never hesitated or thought twice about my opponent if they had a family or loved one waiting for them. I shoot to kill, and now all around me bodies are lining up further and further down the halls.

I just want to breath in air without the burning smell of flesh.

Running from the castle towards the bridge I fling myself onto a large boulder fallen from my treasured home and wrap my arms around it in hopes the familiar stone would give the same sort of comfort it did when I was a little girl lost in the large ever changing halls. I sat on my knees holding the boulder while my head was bowed towards it and I wept: I wept for the loss of my friends, for the lives I took, the sacrifices I made and I wept for the loss of my home. When I was a little girl, no place ever felt like home, I was never accepted; Hogwarts was the first place I truly felt I belonged. True I never did fit in much with the students when I first started, but I didn't feel alone; as if the school its self was welcoming me into its halls and teaching me things others would over look. This is my home-and now it is nothing but rubble. The wind blows at my back, as if it was the castles spirit giving my comfort I longed for. Listening I can hear the heavy foot falls slowly walking up behind my; my first instinct is to grab my wand and fire-but after months in the forest and years in a dormitory I have come to recognize those particular foot falls.

Dabbing my eyes with the back of my hand and standing to face them I try and smile-but it never does reach my eyes like it used to, but then again neither does their smiles. I try to keep my face still, but I couldn't; I could still see Harry lying as still as death in Hagrids arms. My feet moved before my mind had time to think what I was doing, all I knew was I was crying into my best friends shoulder with a smile etched onto my face.

"We did it Harry, we actually did it."

I felt his arms tighten around me for just a second before he dropped his arms and stepped back, "I know Mione-its finally over, he is gone and there is no way he can ever come back."

I felt hot fresh tears roll down my cheeks; its over, no more fear and running from everything and hiding from everyone. We can just be us, not soldiers, not spies, not weapons. We can just be us.

I feel an arm slid around my waist and dry lips press against my forehead-looking up I see the freckly faced blue eyes man that once teased me then grow into my best friend. I couldn't help but grin-the war is over we survived to tell our tale tomorrow but best of all we came out of this together. Leaning into his side for the warmth and comfort we all just watch the sun set over the horizon.

"Tonight we will sleep warm in a bed with a hot home cooked meal-but come tomorrow, I don't think our lives are ever going to be the same again." We all let Harry's words fade in silence as the golden glow reflected off the water.


	2. Chapter One

**Again, we all know these characters are not mine, nor are the rights-I am simply a fan borrowing them for my own pleasure.**

 **Chapter One.**

It has been months since the final battle and Harry's words were still ringing truth; their lives never did return to normal, there was no moment besides watch that sunset out side the castle that was even close to normal.

The night of the final battle, the Weasley's sat together pushing their food around on their plates starring at an open flame as two of their members laid under cotton sheets in the room down the hall. Mrs. Weasley didn't even sold the boys for not washing their hands she just sat there-the fire dancing with the shadows on her face while her eyes shines with un shed tears that she would never let fall in front of her boys. But that night we all heard her cries echo ling after the moon was at it's highest. That sound will forever haunt me.

Even now, long after we buried the two brothers I still wake up to the sound of Mrs. Weasley's crying plaguing my dreams.

Days after the battle photos of the war stricken castle were plastered over every wizarding paper; long articles of family still missing, asking for people to identify lost ones and interviews from the survivors. Not many wanted to talk about the events that occurred, none considered themselves lucky that they lived-because now they have to live with pain of digging friends out from the rubble and burring them in their graves. No one wanted to talk about how they enjoyed fighting in the war. Not then anyways.

Now I cant even step out side the Burrow without getting hounded by reporters and "friends" from third year potions that sat three desks behind me four seats to the left. Life didn't slow down; no longer was I the friend of Harry Potter but rather muggle born witch apart of the _Golden Trio_ that helped vanquish the Dark Lord. I wasn't Hermione Granger I was war hero, a survivor. There was never a moment to get away from the war, the horrific recalls, the nightmares-they were everywhere; the posters of missing children, new ministry law enforcements, there was no end to this war.

Even in my sleep the war never ends. I see the wild look in her eyes, I can hear the echo of her laughter and I can feel the sharp pain of the knife as it is dug deep into my skin. I still wake up screaming into my pillow and scratch marks all over my arms as if I were trying to claw the wretched scars away. And the look I get from the Weasley's each morning it made me wish I could curl up and make myself invisible. They were all tortured by the war, each in their own ways-we all had scars to bare yet when you compare them a word carved into your arm is not the same as losing a piece of you or a child. But just once, I wish I didn't have to look away when someone looks at my scars on my arms because their pain was worse then mine.

Just once.

Even with Ron, our relationship was supposedly written in the stars since we were little, as if we were destined to be together. And for a time it was perfect; best friends turned lovers, we know everything about each other and have stood by one another for years without fault. We should be fine and for a time we were; three blissful months when we were still trying to move forward with life after burying his brothers and cleaning up the destruction. We still tried to smile and remember the lives that we cherished. At the start we were over joyed and ecstatic that after the years spend dancing around each other: both of us were so afraid to push our friendship further into that next step that after we too that jump into that unknown but now that we have its getting harder and harder to go back and remember how we once were. When we would find our strength together, when we supported and helped life one another up when the weight of whatever burden we carries got to much to handle on our own. Where we would never dream of ending the night angry with one another even when our opinions opposed we still talked about it all-even after we fume and storm off we always ended up talking and forgiving.

Now the smell of fire whiskey lingers in the air between us. A disagreement leads to objects flying into walks, shattered mirrors and empty beds. It is better to stay silent then to question. Ron's heart had hardened since the war-the death of his brothers, the almost death of Harry and Ginny it was too much for him. Anger from the cursed locket never went away-he still eyes every one with suspicion. I thought giving him time and painting a smile on my lips would help him. But one can only fake happiness for so long. Sleeping in his arms at night would lessen the pain from the nightmares; in his arms I was safe and protected, wrapped in love. But with me-he felt the unease like he did back in the tent and that when he started staying out late with other remaining survivors-leavening me alone with the faces that plagued my sleep.

I remember the first time he came home late, I remember how he shook me awake his tight grip on my arm made me scream louder and I reached for my wand and aimed it at him. I remember the big bright eyes stare at me at the green light flashed from my wand missing him by what seemed as little as a hair. I remember how revolted I was that I cast my want aside and moved to wards me-I watched as he curled his lip at me and turned away. I spent weeks trying to get him to forgive me, but he never spared me a second look-to this day I don't think he has forgiven me. I was so scared that the snatchers had me again and were going to drag me back to that woman I panicked; I didn't think I just reacted. And now there is nothing I can do to take it back, I tried to shoot him with the killing curse, an unforgivable.

Since then the only passion between us is the arguments. I look at him and all I feel is loss, pain and guilt. The love I want to feel for him seems to be forgotten in the past. When we go out to attended monument unveilings we plaster on smiles and fake pleasantries. We pretend everything is okay because that is what was expected of us; to be the happy couple after all the war and death left in the wake of the final battle. We are meant to be a part of the light at the end of the tunnel, something to look forward too; a large wedding, the first of many children to be born from the golden couple that will go on to attend the new Hogwarts. But what we are meant to be isn't always what we want.

I know I want to go home to the muggle world-I want to find my parents and make amends for the actions I took to keep them safe; if my actions did what I thought and kept them safe and together. But I know that I am needed here-to me a face that resembles hope and life. I also have to be here from Ron and Harry, Ginny and all the Weasley's offer my support and help in any way possible, even if that means pretending staying here is making me happy.

Rolling out of bed ignoring the stiffness in my neck I rub my eyes and look behind me and sigh and the cold untouched side of the bed before I stumble out of bed and down the hall. Closing the door behind me I look into the bathroom mirror and groan; my eyes are red with dark circles and hair sticking out in every direction. Sighing I flip on the tap to the shower and let the water heat up till the steam fogs the mirror and I can't see the woman staring back at me.

~ _Time skip/one hour/~_

Take the stairs down two steps at a time, following my noes to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was cooking up a storm-I wonder what the occasion is, the kitchen hasn't smelt this good since before the war.

Peering into the kitchen I see dishes splashing around in the sink and rag frantically whipping them down before they flow onto the table: Mrs. Weasley is hovering over pots and pans. It makes me laugh-this is how she always was before school started up.

"Mione-" I turn and see the familiar raven haired boy who has been my best friend since we were children, but the look on his face was not one that held the same about of happiness as mine. I felt the smile fall from my face, the smell of the kitchen no longer seemed as wonderful as I want to believe. "There is a man her from the ministry-he wants to speak with us both."

Strange, normally when ministry workers want to talk it is to all of us-Harry, Ron and myself. Why do I have the feeling I won't like this?

"Why didn't you get me sooner-its rude to keep officials waiting Harry?" I start to walk past him into the living room when Harry reaches for my wrists to hold me back.

"Mione, you don't have to do this-what he asks you can always say no-"

"Harry James Potter, please let go of my hand and let me hear what he asks first before you fill my head with thoughts of saying no."

He just shook his head and pushed his glasses further up his nose making a motion for me to walk forward.

In the living room stood a tall man, well groomed and held an air of superiority about him. His robes were custom tailored, his dark hair slicked back and his shoes polished. There was no doubt in my mind that this man was breed into the world of class; where you were judged on looks, attire and mannerisms. He didn't sit so he wasn't intending to stay very long.

"Miss Granger, kind of you to join us this morning."

I hood my eyes and bow my head slightly, "My apologizes, I wasn't aware you were to be meeting us this morning Mr.-"

"Warner. And yes, I do suppose this meeting was a little abrupt, but it can't be helped. There is a trial coming up this day next week, but the court system cannot decide if they are truly guilty of their crimes or if there were only pawns-the evidence if there for both. Which is why I have come here on Ministry request as a last effort to decide if these two are guilty or not; you two are our last resort, and I wish that it did not have to come down to this."

I felt Harry move behind me and put a hand on my shoulder and the unease I was starting to feel slowly vanished-but the feeling in my gut was churning even more then it was before.

"What could we possibly do to decide the final verdict?" my mind and soul were screaming for me to run; wizarding trials were more cruel and malicious than the muggle trials. They were able to peer into your mind, able to get every truth, and weren't afraid to torture the mind and body till they got their evidence.

"We will pull memories from the war and review them before we call you to stand to share your thoughts on what you experienced through their hands then as a court we will put the verdict to a vote."

I reach out for Harry's hand and I hold on tightly- waiting for Mr. Warner to finish. I can feel bile churning in my stomach-there was only one family that touched both Harry's and my life but not Ron's-not really. Sure Ron hated them-they were nothing but unkind to his family, but rudeness was not the same as what Harry experienced in the Forbidden Forest nor I alone on their floor. This is what Harry meant about saying no; this is why he was trying to warn me, why he never rushed to come and get me.

Mr. Warner held out a manila envelope and put it in my hand be fore he grabbed his coat off the rack, "I don't expect an answer right away-you have three days to decide if you wish to aid in the Malfoy trial or not. Three Days miss Granger. Once you sign your consent there is no changing your mind-so please use these days wisely to decide."

He stood next to the Floo and turned towards us once more, "Mr. Potter, Miss. Granger." And like that he was gone in a puff of smoke and I feel to the floor.

How could they ask me to testify for that family? How?


	3. Chapter Two

**One again, I do not own-if I did, there are a million things I would rather be doing than posting online.**

 **Review regards;**

 _Whatweareafriardof: I am well aware of what the Malfoy's did to Ron and his family, but most of the time it was second hand not directly-that and I am also not a fan of Ron. So sorry if you do not like where I am heading with this little plot bunny, but it is happening and I do sincerely hope you will enjoy it even with my viewpoint towards Ron._

 _Brian 1972: As you will read, I making it so it is basically like a witness statement more then anything that can me used in the courts joined vote on the Malfoy's. It is neither for nor against-just viewpoints from someone that has witnessed who they really are. If that makes any sense._

 **Chapter Two**

I stare at the paper in front of me like I have been for the past two days. I thought the choice to say no would be easy, would be simple. But every time I dip my quill into the ink and go to sign my name my heart skips a beat and my hand stops before it can touch the paper. Why is this choice so hard. There family has been nothing but cruel to me; I spent years being tormented by that ferret; I have shed tears and blood because of that family. This choice should be easy. My hand itches to sign the blasted thing and get it over with but I just can't. The moment I sign no on that page there is no going back-and what if my choice wrongs them in worse ways then they did towards me? Am I really going to pretend I am better then them like they did to me for years? Am I really not going to let justice win? Could my memories decide their fate? Merlin why is this choice layered with so many reasons to sign yes as there is to sign no.

"Why so you still refuse to sign that stupid paper Mione-It's the Malfoy's! They are nothing but Death Eater scum-let them rot, it won't affect you either way, just sign no like Harry and let it be done with."

I voice cleared and I looked towards the entryway of the living room and Harry was standing there a little red in the face, "Actually Ron, I signed yes. We didn't fight that war so one side is better then the other, we fought it so that the justice system would not be biased, that we will all be equal-pureblooded or not." He took a seat next to Ron on the couch, "If we can get the Malfoy's sent to prison through honest justice not bias, that would be an honest victory-having cold feet at the end doesn't make them good, it makes them cowards, they still choose what side of the war to fight on, there is no reason to make the get away Scott free."

I stopped listening after that-were they cowards? Lucius Malfoy had a heart as cold as ice; he stood by the Dark Lord even when the world thought he was gone. He practiced the dark arts for so long it became apart of who he was-there was no doubt in my mind that that man needed to be punished. But what about Narcissa Malfoy: what did she do that could condemn her to a life in Prison? She stood behind her husband life any pure blooded wife-she was meant to bee seen and not heard, hold society parties and produce heirs to carry on the family name. She lied to the Dark Lord, she made unbreakable vows to keep her son alive and safe; what did she do besides marrying Lucius that could possible earn her a one way ticket to prison? Even Draco-he was an arse, a bigot, has an ego the size of England, but even he isn't entirely guilty. He wasn't the one who killed Albus, he lied about knowing Harry, and every time to raised his wand to do the work of the dark lord his eyes were filled with tears.

And neither Draco nor his mother stopped that madwoman form carving up my arm and cursing me black and blue.

Taking a deep breath I dip my quill in the ink well one final time; like Harry said, honest justice is the only way any to determine their fate.

Yes.

 _~Time skip/three days-the night before the trial/~_

Running my hands over the dark navy blue robes trying to ride myself from any wrinkles that may be there; I have to look my best tomorrow. The whole magical community of England has been waiting for the final verdict on this trial. Everyone will be watching, reporters will watch ever eye moment and twitch to find second meaning. Will look for any imperfections to conjure up some note worthy falsehood story. Nothing can go wrong tomorrow.

Tomorrow I will have to look into the eyes of everyone as they watch my memories of the war. I am going to have relive the pain of laying on that floor all over again; with the same steel eyes looking at me once again. This is all too soon-I still cannot sleep without seeing her face. I can no longer keep my pain about this memory a secret. I can no longer pretend that it doesn't affect me when I am around my peers. After this trial everything is going to change. Once more those looks of pity and the _"I am sorry for you"_ talks are going to come from everyone I meet, everyone I walk to. But even with all this, I do not regret my choice to sign yes; if there is a way that justice can prevail I will do this.

Looking back at our-my-empty bed I sigh and take a swig of sleeping potions and bind my arms so my nails do not leave scratches on my wrist; I crawl into bed and pray to whatever deity that might listen to my prays for a night of dreamless rest.

My hair as been pulled, pinned and charmed on top of my head in an elegant bun style with a couple curled strands to frame my face. Dark circles and pale skill hidden under a fair amount of creams and powders: my robes clean, wrinkle free and conservative.

Physically I was ready for this, mentally I wanted to run as far as I could and never look back. I wasn't ready for this but I had to be. My heels clicked along the marble floors of the court room, I could feel the eyes of every soul in that room staring at my back, waiting for my first mistake-the first show of fear of being in the same room as the fair haired family. I walked past them; my head held high I dared not give them the chance to make me feel small. Letting go of the breath I held I sat down and looked straight back at everyone who stared at my back. My eyes locked onto the Malfoy family; part of me couldn't believe it was that noble family that were always polished and poised, these three were nothing like that. They were pale, far to thin and frail looking.

"Hermione Jean Granger, do you sit here today ready to give an honest and fair testimony on the actions and people you see before you."

I blinked fast and sat up straight, "I do."

"Hermione Jean Granger, do you give the court permission to view and display your memories for all to witness."

I swallowed and caught the eye of Draco Malfoy and there was something there that I couldn't quite put my tongue on, "I do."

That is when I felt a spell hit my back and arms from nowhere reach out and held me from falling face forward onto the floor. My mind was starting to cloud and voices from long ago were ringing in my ears. What was going on? What kind of spell is this?

" _You are nothing but a filthy little mudblood-you don't deserve to breath the same air as me."_

" _Do you honestly believe that you will be anything in this world? You don't belong here, you are a muggle."_

" _Draco-step away, those people are a sickness in this world."_

" _Pathetic little creature aren't you."_

I could hear it all, things said in passing that mean nothing but prove how vile and cruel they were to me. There was nothing that gave the Malfoy any sense of hope.

" _Is it them? Look at his forehead, tell me it is him!"_

" _I-I can't be sure-he looks nothing like the Potter I know."_

" _Draco-"_

" _Look at the scar boy!"_

" _I-I don't know!"_

" _Give me the girl!"_

I flinched away from the memory-her voice chilling my body to the core. I am not ready for this-I can't live this again.

" _Where did you get that sword? Were you in my vault! Answer me!"_

" _We found it! I didn't steal it!"_

" _Liar! You were in my vault! What else did you find?"_

" _Nothing I swear! Please! Stop!"_

" _Filthy mudblood!"_

I could feel tears drip down my checks and I was unable to stop them-I just had to watch the faces of friends and family-watch them finch at the green light, listen to my screams that I have tried to hide from them for so long. I can feel the pain in my arm as if it is being recut by that vile woman, I can feel it burn my flesh once again and just like the first time there is nothing I can do to stop the pain.

I try not to feel sick when Harry won't even look me in my eyes as my memories played out; Harry the one I thought I could lean on for support as my horrible memories were shown to everyone I knew. But he wouldn't even watch-how could he be there for me if he wont even watch what happened to me? Does he not care that these memories haunt me and will do so till the day I die? I know that watching it would be hard, it was hard enough living through that ordeal: But it would be nice having someone who knows what I went through and knows the pain I suffered and know that even if I smile I am still scared and that they will fight for me and protect me. I just want the reassurance from my friends that it will be okay and that I didn't have to hide from anyone anymore. But they won't even watch the memories projecting in front of them.

I knew Ron wouldn't, I love him and he I hope still has some love for me; but even love doesn't mean he would watch for my sake. I really didn't want him to either-dreams about Fred were what drove him to the bottle, I couldn't imagine him having my memories fuel that fire. But Harry, Harry was a surprise; he was a strong leader with a lion's heart, he never turned away when this got hard for him he pushed through.

Then there were the Malfoy's; with their expressionless face and stoic posture-from a distance one would have thought them to be statues. But even with my memories being hurled in front of them practically screaming guilty, they never broke eye contact they never once looked away. But when her voice came roaring though I saw the slight tensing in Lucius jaw, the way Narcissa flinched ever so slighting and I saw the way Draco's hand tightened into a fist. How very strange that they would be the ones to watch without fear.

The room got quite as my memories faded into an echo; no one dared made a sound after watching that scene, not that I blame them. I steady my breathing and try to keep my face blank and void of emotions-I would not let the judgment of this family be swayed by foolish tears. It happened in the past and there was nothing that could be done about it.

"Hermione Jean Granger, are you well enough to continue with your testimony of this family?"

I dared not to look up into the judges stand-I knew what I would see, bit pitying eyes and deep frown lines. I couldn't see that now. "I am ready to continue."

"Very well."

Lucius was dragged from the box where he and his family were sitting and told to stand in the middle of the room.

"Hermione Jean Granger, state the name of the man before you and your testament towards his character so we as a community can determine his punishment."

The difference between the man I once knew when I first started going to Hogwarts and the man I see before me know was staggering. Lucius was always proud, clean cut and held himself above everyone, this man is just an empty shell.

"His name is Lucius Malfoy," I close my eyes and take a breath, "He was a proud man, who knew his rank in society was above all else, he went out of his way to assure everyone knew that. He insulted me as a child, was rude towards my parents and had no shame or humility towards his actions. He was a loyal member of the inner circle, he allowed the Dark Lord to use his home as his base, held captive under that very house and I do not doubt that he spilled the blood of innocents and order members alike. I also know that he is loyal to his family and when the chance arose to either fight or flee, he ran. He is a coward in that sense as well, guilty of his crimes, but I do believe there is a heart still in there that hasn't been consumed by the evil he surrounded himself with. There is hope for him yet, so I believe he needs to punished within his rights, but I do not wish for death."

I saw a light in his eyes before he bowed his head towards me ever so slightly; it would have gone unnoticed by anyone else unless they had been watching. He turned back towards the judge with that blank expression once more and didn't fight the men dragging him back.

"Hermione Jean Granger, do you still wish to continue?"

This is turning out to be a very by the books trial, making sure the witness is fine every time I have to face the family of the people that hurt me. This is perfect, a proper justice system, I couldn't have been more proud.

Shaking my head from my currant train of thought, "I am ready."

The next Malfoy standing in front of me was none other than Narcissa.

"Again, Hermione Jean Granger, will you identify and tell us your testimony of the character before you."

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, "Her name is Narcissa Malfoy; and I do not know much about her, when ever I saw her she was by her husbands side as a proper pure blood wife. She never uttered any side remark at me, only a cold icy stare. So I do not know much about her as a person, I do know that she bears no mark, and everything she has done was to protect her family. She was the one that made an unbreakable vow with Severus to keep him safe, and she is the one that lied to the Dark Lord proclaiming Harry was dead so he would knot go after her son. She was on that side because he family was, I do not blame her for anything that happened to me at her home, nor the years of torment I received by her husband and son."

I look into the stands where Harry and Ron were, expecting them to be calm as the trail went on, like she was this morning when Harry testified. But this was not the case, Ron looked seething with anger and Harry just looked miffed. As if I were saying the wrong things.

"Hermione Jean Granger, "I drop my eyes back to the floor were now Draco stood, much unlike his father who stood hunched over and gripping a cane as if it were the only thing keeping him. Draco stood with his arms at his sides, and at his full height with chest puffed out. "Are you able to continue."

Without missing a beat, "Yes."

"Hermione Jean Granger, Identify the man before you, and give a testimony towards his character."

I look the blonde man straight in the eyes, "His name is Draco Malfoy-"


End file.
